The Harvest of Planet Exitiar
by Arcaya
Summary: In an attempt to deter his siblings from overthrowing him, Balem forces Kalique and Titus to witness a Harvest.


**Notes: ****This one-shot is mostly based on some of the dialogue during the meeting of the Abrasax siblings on Zalintyre. I liked the idea that neither Kalique or Titus had ever witnessed a Harvest, and Titus' comments on how 'affecting' he imagines witnessing one to be. Also, any opportunity to depict Balem's sanity sliding away faster than he did off his Refinery is always a bonus.**

The invitation on board Balem's ship seemed bizarre and entirely out of place. It had been little more than a week since they had met on Zalintyre, and the absence of a convincing reason for such an invite was incredibly unsettling.

"My guards have been alerted, of course they have." Kalique spoke quietly, her expression remaining deliberately calm and composed as she walked alongside her younger sibling along the hall of the vast ship. "I always feared he'd try something like this once Mother was out of the way, I had simply hoped he'd a little more _class._"

"Do you really think he means to kill us?" Titus asked, taking in the vastness of the ship and finding himself overcome with a nagging jealousy that momentarily eclipsed his underlying fear of being murdered in cold blood. Why did Balem need a ship this size? It was larger than his clipper, and twice as expensive, no doubt.

"I have my suspicions." Kalique muttered, stopping in the hall suddenly to glance back at Titus. She smiled. "Is that a hint of fear I detect in your voice, Titus?" She teased.

"A healthy cautiousness, I'd prefer to call it. We needn't fear anything; I've alerted my guards also." Titus lied, cursing himself for having not done the same. _Why hadn't he?_ Had a vague, pathetic sense of hope remained inside him that Balem had genuinely desired their company? There _had_ after all been a flimsy excuse Balem had offered up, albeit with very little (if any) enthusiasm in order to convince his siblings of its validity: the celebration of a dual Harvest. A rare occurance, but one Titus _had_ seen twice before in his lifetime, of two planets reaching maturity and a Harvest being possible within _days _of one another.

"What is the name of this second planet, do you remember?" Kalique asked.

"Zalintyre, was it?" Titus offered. _Who cared?_

"No. No, that was definitely the first one." Kalique replied, unsure.

"Oh. Then perhaps this one was Aphelius?"

"No. I don't think so."

"I'm sure it was Aphelius. Or something beginning with E. Exitium or something…"

"Exitiar…" A third voice cut in, causing Kalique and Titus to turn in shock towards the doorway on their right. "The planet's name is Exitiar."

"Balem, you surprised us! I thought we were meeting at dinner?" Kalique performed her very best act of greeting her brother, while Titus, deeming his sister's response a sufficient one, simply smiled back at Balem just briefly enough not to make direct eye contact. Titus' efforts were, however, unsuccessful. The subtle hatred in Balem's glance stung back, as always.

"I thought we'd take a brief detour, before dinner." Balem was smiling. "I thought we'd visit Exitiar."

Kalique noticed Titus glancing in her direction, and noted the brief, subtle expression of panic that crossed over her younger sibling's face.

_Why was Balem smiling? _

"What would be the need for that, brother? We visited…_Zalintyre_," Kalique winced, hoping she had remembered the name correctly, "…only a few days ago. What use would there be to visit another recently harvested planet so soon after—"

"Ah, you see, that's where you're wrong Kalique." Balem was practically grinning now, his calm composure seemingly replaced with a threatening intensity. "You see, Exitiar is in the _process_ of being Harvested. My gift to the pair of you tonight, is to show you our great industry in action. For the first time in your lives, you are to _witness _a Harvest."

* * *

"You needn't worry about your guards; they believe you desire to be here as much as _I_ desire the both of you to be here." Balem muttered, perched against the velvet backed throne overlooking the wall to wall windows of the room, a viewing window. He looked over towards the large metal doors at the entrance of the room, secured by his guards, then to his siblings, who sat nervously at their own chairs, both holding a cup of something they dared to drink (poison, Titus assumed), reluctantly accepted upon their entrapment within the room.

Balem had witnessed many Harvests in his lifetime and as such it must have been just shy of five millennia ago he'd stopped experiencing any sort of emotional response towards them. In retrospect, perhaps simply killing Titus would have been easier, but Kalique…no. Balem couldn't snuff his sister's life out quite so easily, after all part of him loved her almost as much as he had loved their mother. Before Titus, they had been incredibly close. With that in mind, perhaps killing Titus alone would not have been wise, for Kalique, for some incomprehensible reason, loved him dearly. So then, this was his compromise. If his siblings truly were set on overthrowing him, claiming his inheritance for their own, then perhaps they should be willing to see just _what_ it was that brought such glory to the Abrasax House?

"We should arrive on Exitiar's surface in around an hour's time. Which I'm sure you were both itching to ask."

Titus stood up at once, throwing his cup across the room in a somewhat petulant rage.

"I won't look at it for a single second!" He laughed, bitterly. "You can't make me do a _thing _I don't want to, Balem, you never have and you never _will_ be able to."

"Are you done, Titus?" Balem asked, disinterested. "If you object so much to witnessing the Harvest of your own accord, perhaps I can arrange for one of my guards to…" he paused, glancing over to one of his nearby henchmen, "...remove your eyelids for you?"

Titus looked disgusted, but more importantly, frightened. He sat back down, silent. Balem would have been satisfied with this outcome if Kalique had not reached over and grasped Titus' arm in an effort to comfort him immediately after this. She was smarter than to argue back, at least.

* * *

Exitiar was red.

Blood, screams and the jarring whir of machinery.

"The suction tube takes the entire specimen up to the Extractor Pod in order to separate the unnecessary tissue from the vital components needed for the creation of Regenex. Do you see the Extractor Pod?" Balem pointed towards the nearby example, as a splatter of blood caught the side of the glass window.

Kalique gasped. "Balem, please! Enough!"

Titus sat with wide eyes, half coiled into Kalique's arms shaking, his expression a mix of near-catatonic horror and awe.

"Oh, that _is_ unpleasant." Balem remarked as he glanced at the blood splatter, relishing in the displeasure his macabre narration was causing his siblings. "Occasionally organic…refuse…escapes the Extractor, but that's obviously avoided as much as possible."

"Make him stop." Titus muttered, desperately.

"It's alright, brother, remember- they don't… they don't matter as we do. You have to remind yourself of that. They don't matter as we do." Kalique tried to convince herself as much as Titus, as she felt him tense further in her arms, her hand interlinked with his. She held tightly to her sibling's hand, fearing the moment she let go that the realisation may set in for the first time on a genuine, human level. _We're monsters._ She gazed from Titus' crumpled form, to Balem, who had continued to narrate the Harvest with sickening indifference, to the horrors taking place within several yards of the ship. Was this why their mother had spoken so often of ending her own life? She took a deep breath, running her free hand through Titus' hair.

"They don't matter as we do."


End file.
